The OneShot Tragedy
by Adrianna Rosewood
Summary: Featuring Ulquiorra and Orihime. My take on the most probable ending to this pairing.


Eh, before you proceed, I warn you that I'm an amateur writer (which explains the sloppiness of my organization, incorrect grammar, and the incomplete sentences).. Regardless of these flaws, I hope you enjoy this story...

"Kill her."

But he had refused.

He had deliberately disobeyed his lord's orders and unsheathed his sword instead to combat Aizen.

The words had escaped from his lips before he had the chance to think over the consequences, but what's the use of collecting water that was already spilled?

Glinting fragments of the glass marble had scattered across the floor… beyond recovery.

Hollow blood splattered across the whitewashed walls and stained the once stark white floor.

Drip… Drip… Drip…

Aizen's gleaming blade pierced the arrancar's chest, pinning him against the wall. A deep-throated chuckle reverberated off the walls, only to emphasize how much the espada leader was savoring this scene.

It was cruel yet expected of him.

After all, the former shinigami leader lusted for blood, perhaps the only common ground shared between the brunette leader and his wild, rebellious espadas.

The arrancar gasped in response to the searing pain.

A single rivulet of crimson blood trickled down the corner of his lips, staining the starched collar of his hakama. His neatly pressed uniform, which he once prided its stainless white, was instantly dirtied with debris, dust, and blood after that sudden blow.

A single move from the espada leader had wounded him severely... even worse, he was unable to fight back at this position. His thrashings were useless, his screams of agony fell on deaf ears.

He cursed under his breath, but did not berate himself for the choice he had made.

The gushing wound and physical pain was bearable, but what stunned him the most was his lord's unexpected betrayal. His loyalty had been passed unnoticed and did not amount to anything in the end. Ulquiorra had mistakenly thought that his unwavering loyalty could be bargained for the girl's safety, but much to his dismay, he was wrong.

It would perhaps be the first and last time his judgment failed to serve him.

The malicious grin and the bloodied sword in his hand betrayed the espada leader's next move. Aizen Sousuke was determined to kill him, determined to punish him for disloyalty. Determined to destroy his once "flawless" creation.

The espada's life was slowly draining out of him. His breathing labored and was slowly coming to a halt, but he couldn't… he couldn't by all means leave the girl alone, defenseless. He was the most able of the espadas or so he thought—the only espada that was capable of defeating Aizen. But the battle ended too soon and in bitter disappointment.

His hands reached shakily to pull the blade that the ex-shinigami used to annihilate his former subjects, from his chest. Aizen, his lord and savior, his god and deity, his reason of existence. He knew his lord was insurmountable from the moment he was born in Hueco Mundo, but yet he tried.

He tried…

He had defied his leader to protect a defenseless _ningen_.

But the sword only dug deeper.

The ebony-haired hollow coughed up blood, further dirtying the steel blade that punctured his chest.

Aizen smirked, pulling the blade from his subject's heart after spending what seemed like hours torturing the hollow.

"Fool…"

He collapsed onto his knees, blood fauceting from the gaping wound on his abdomen.

With fear-stricken eyes, Inoue Orihime embraced him from his fall, staining herself in a pool of crimson.

"Ulquiorra-san… Ul-Ulquiorra-san."

She sobbed, her thin frame shaking violently. Rivulets of tears landed on his pale skin. Strands of orange hair crusted with blood, intertwined in his slender fingers.

His vision faded, unable to make out the details of her curls and the stitches of her arrancar uniform.

"…Wo…man… cease…your… weep…ing."

His voice was dying and failed to calm her, only to trigger more tears.

It was a painful sight to see, even to a heartless hollow who was renowned for his lack of sympathy—a girl unable to contain her grief, her misery, her inner scars. All of this had happened within a short period of time.

The arrancar shivered, the warmth of her embrace slowly giving way to the cold.

Death wasn't something new to him, but unwelcoming and to an extent frightening as it always had been.

"O...Orihime…" he gasped.

…And he was gone.

The vanish in Ulquiorra's reiatsu left the girl wailing in despair. She hugged his limp figure tighter, unable to accept his death. A heart-wrenching tragedy.

Tears sprang from a deeper well than regret that a man was dying an agonizing death.

This moment of sorrow was more than the sad acceptance of Ulquiorra's mortality; it was part of a universal grieving for the terror and the cruelty of the world.


End file.
